


The Paleblood Inquisitor

by Kosho



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Cats, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Demon Deals, Demon Hunters, Demonic Possession, Eldritch Blast, Homebrew Content, Inquisitor Backstory, Mages, Pirates, Pre-Canon, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Special Weapons, Tieflings, Weapons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-07-13 21:55:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16026749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kosho/pseuds/Kosho
Summary: Drynne and his traveling companion Charity are oddities in Thedas. When the Conclave goes to hell, the one who can make the most difference is the demon-possessed half-elf. Despite how unusual the hero, the Inquisition has no choice but to place their hopes on him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because I have no idea what I'm aiming for, I'm going to actually start with backstory and then jump into Inquisition plot. Also, I'm not really satisfied with the first chapter. there's every chance I may redo it.

Cassandra circled the strange woman curiously. Their prisoner was still unconscious after stilling the Breach, and none had learned so much as his name. Given that she’d arrived with him, questioning her seemed the best course of action. 

 

“Your name.” Cassandra demanded. 

 

The horned woman swished her long tail back and forth slowly, loosely holding an unusual creature in her arms, one that seemed to be unbothered by her presence, and adorned much like she was in jewelry. She cocked her head and the golden rings in her horns jingled cheerfully. 

 

“Charity LeBeau.” she said. Nodding her chin down slightly, she gave an almost bored shrug. “This is Sparkles.” 

 

The creature yawned, seeming to mirror her bored appearance completely. Cassandra eyed it warily. Before she could get to questions about the Herald, she first wanted to know more about her. 

 

“What manner of being are you? What is...that thing?” she asked. 

 

“I am a Tiefling. If you’ve not seen my kind before, I suggest you take a look in the mirror, we were once like you.” Charity said. “We don’t show ourselves around  _ your kind _ much because you like to kill first and forget about it later.  _ Sparkles _ is my familiar, he’s an imp.” 

 

“You are nothing like us.” Cassandra snorted.

 

“We  _ were _ .” she repeated. “Human in every way. Greed and hubris were the sins of my ancestors, and my appearance is part of an ongoing punishment of sorts. I’m not as far gone as you believe. I worship no demons, my pact is with a human god, even if it is not your Maker.” 

 

“Where do you come from?” She asked. 

 

“Seheron. The Tal-Vashoth and Qunari don’t bother with me, they know I am not one of theirs.” she said. “Besides. It isn’t as though I can’t take care of myself. My patron has given me many gifts, I am quite useful.”

 

As curious as she was to know more, Leliana’s expression served to remind her of why they were there to begin with. With a reluctant sigh, she shook her head, changing the subject. 

 

“We’ll discuss you more later. For now, what do you know of the one you arrived with?” She pressed. 

 

Charity let go of the imp, and it rose up to hang from her shoulder lazily. “Drynne? Interesting how you humans can’t pick up on the simple things. He’s half elf, you know. The wings might throw you off a bit, but that’s the least unusual thing about Drynne, to be honest.” 

 

“What does that mean? Tell us what you know.” Cassandra asked firmly. 

 

“Drynne Paleblood. Father is an elf, lives in Seheron, but he’s from Rivain. Has a bunch of siblings. Mother is a siren, that’s why he has those wings. Does things a fair bit differently from most, but he’s one you should want on your side. That’s all I know. Ain’t been around him all that long, met up in Alamar.” she rambled. 

 

“What were you doing in Alamar?” Leliana interjected. 

“I was making a stop on my way to Denerim. Drynne’s crew mutinied, made off with his ship and left him for dead there. I treated the injuries as best I could. I’m no healer, but you learn things in a merc band. The second time, when the raiders attacked, we got separated, was a messy reunion. Many of the few villagers and their homes were wiped out, and Drynne was...angry. Shredded the poor thing up, looked as though dying would have been kinder. “ she said. “I’d rather not leave just yet if I don’t have to. I’ll get to Denerim eventually.” 

 

“You will be watched. I don’t trust you just yet, but if you prove yourself, that may change.” Cassandra muttered. 

 

“Of course. Such is the way of these things, I expected no less when your men hauled us off.” Charity replied. “Is that all for now?” 

 

“Yes. For the time being, you are free to go.” Leliana told her. 

 

Charity stood up, shuffling towards the door. Her hand reached the handle, and she stopped, glancing back over her shoulder with a frown. “One more thing. Don’t  _ ever _ touch the eyepatch. Not if you’re not prepared to see what’s lurking underneath.” 

 

Not giving them a chance to reply in any way, she left, wandering off to explore the small village. It was somewhat surprising that they’d not thought to question her further. Perhaps they were satisfied with what she’d told them?

 

\--

_ Drynne groaned quietly, shivering slightly at the tickling hair grazing his neck. They’d docked for a few days to offload some goods, and once official business was dealt with, he was content to spend the rest of the day in bed.  _

 

_ “Mm...Kayven, you know what that does…” he groaned sleepily.  _

 

_ He felt slow, gentle kisses along the back of his neck, firm hands clutching slim hips. Affectionate kisses turned into heated nips, and Drynne protested tiredly, though his body betrayed him, arching back lazily.  _

 

_ “Seems to me you don’t really want to go back to sleep, Captain.” Kayven murmured. “Could be as I want to wake you up properly.”  _

 

“Cullen.” Solas called out.

 

“Yes, what is it?” he asked, glancing up from a stack of reports. “Oh. Right. Is the Herald waking up?” 

 

“It would seem so.” He confirmed. 

 

Cullen set the reports aside, standing slowly with a sigh. Walking over to the bed, he leaned closer to observe. Seeing someone with wings was something he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to. To say little of the unusual color of the Herald’s hair and feathers, all curiously blending pinks, purples, reds and oranges, save for the crest of feathers wrapping across the brow, black in color. Drynne’s eye opened slowly, squinting against the sunlight filtering through the room. Sitting up after a few moments, his arms went up and he stretched, his wings mimicking the rise and fall of his shoulders. 

 

“Not been long since I woke up like this.” he sighed, ruffling his hair. “Last time was just before I watched my crew sail into the sunset with my ship. I have nothing left to take, really.” 

 

“We aren't here to attack you. Just some questions, you won't go back to the dungeon.” Cullen assured him. 

 

After a time, Cassandra, Leliana and Josephine filed into his quarters, standing around the room in the absence of chairs. Solas stayed too, partly out of curiosity about him. Appearances were deceptive things, and he didn't want to assume anything from him. 

 

“Your name is Drynne, correct?” Leliana asked formally. 

 

“Yes. I did not think it important to waste your time on the mountain with my life story. Since it seems of interest to you now.” He mumbled. “For a record of some sort no doubt. Middle of five children. Father is Anaxis Deadvigor. I'd be surprised if you've encountered  _ any _ sirens, but my mother's name is Aeryt. My travels have taken me to many places, across all waters.” 

 

“You did something to the demons we encountered on the way. What was it?” Cassandra questioned. 

 

His eye fell on her, keenly aware that she was having some trouble trying to figure out where to look, but she kept her serious expression even as she looked elsewhere, just past his head.

 

“Which, my weapon, the magic or my particular senses?” he countered. 

 

“Everything.” she replied almost instantly. 

 

“My bow is special. A gift from a friend at world's end.” he said. “Turns into a sword. The magic...that’s...not really something I care to discuss. What I can say is I'm a demon hunter. If it's a demon, undead, or dark in nature? I can sense it as though it were right in front of me. I knew they were there well before we actually seen them. I'm well equipped to mark my prey and make them fall easily to any means I choose.” 

 

Drynne smirked almost proudly at the thought, lightly rubbing his brow, just above the black jewelry through the bridge of his nose, a match for the piece through his lip. Solas seemed to regard him curiously, and he caught his look. he reached for the black feathers near his temples, raising them enough to give them a good look  at his ears. long, narrow and pointed, preempting any questions as to his parentage. Oh yes. he knew what his name meant. It had been curious for a time, but ultimately, it felt fitting to him. 

 

_ “You could escape… _ ” a voice said. 

 

Drynne glanced around the room slowly, before settling down. That voice followed him everywhere, he's swear it, but he could never figure out where it was coming from. 

 

His bag tipped over at his side, and a calico cat tumbled out of it, a fried fish in its mouth, curling up lazily while it ate.

 

“Finn, good to see you up and about.” he said warmly. 

 

The cat glanced up for a moment, meowing in greeting. 

 

“You...have a cat.” Cullen noted quietly.

 

“Not just any cat. He was a gift. went from mousing on my ship to joining me in battle when he chooses. My little friend here fights harder than some of the bandits and raiders I've faced.” Drynne said. 

 

“How sturdy can a cat be?” Cassandra huffed. 

 

Drynne scratched behind his ears slowly. “Do you want to show her?”

 

Finn meowed, crawling back into his bag, the pack shifting around for a few moments before he returned, covered in a tiny suit of studded leather armor. 

 

“I take his protection very seriously. Now...if you're satisfied, I'd appreciate being reunited with my associate?” he said. 

 

“I'll go get her. Just in case, it may be best not to get up yet. We don't know what that mark does. resting up in here at least for a few hours may be beneficial. Solas will keep an eye on you.” Leliana said. 

 

“You have my gratitude.” Drynne told Solas.

 

“There is no hope of closing the Breach without you. It is the wisest option to take care with your health.” he replied. 

 

_ If they only knew. Perhaps they'd simply demand more. Perhaps for now, this is best. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charity and Drynne spend a little down time talking before business calls again.

“They questioned you too?” Drynne asked curiously. 

 

“Typical stuff. What are you and the like. Asked about you too. I told them some, not all.” Charity muttered around a piece of bread. “Enough to keep them busy.”

 

“I’m surprised they’re letting us walk with only bare guard.” He said. 

 

“I’m not. They need you. You’re marked, you’re important. Me? I’m getting away with it because I mentioned your name at the door.” Charity laughed. 

 

Conversation died down for a short time, Charity busy eating her breakfast and him, busy tending to Finn’s food. His own had gone untouched, an increasingly common sight. 

 

“You have to eat. It isn’t going to save you if you starve to death, you know.” she said pointedly. “I doubt they’d poison you when they could have just killed you while you were unconscious.” 

 

“I know it isn’t poisoned. I’d be able to tell, remember? The dead, darkspawn, all of it carries contagions. I wouldn’t last long if I couldn’t tell.” Drynne reminded her quietly. 

 

“Then what? Your ship again, or the infamous Kayven I keep hearing you muttering about in your sleep?” she asked. 

 

“It was a mistake. I’ve never...I thought he really cared. Had I known the thought of abandoning me and taking off with my ship had crossed anyone’s mind, I’d have done away with the whole crew and been done with it. None of them can control it, was special made to respond only to me, so it’s just...withering away in his hands.” He ranted brokenly. “What about you? You told me about your family, never mentioned friends, lovers. I’m sure someone with a tongue as gilded as yours, you must have had plenty of people on your side. How did you end up there?” 

 

Charity tore off a bit of bread, passing it over her shoulder, only a small clawed hand visible for an instant as no doubt Sparkles yanked it from her straight away. She seemed in no hurry to answer, shrugging  eventually. 

 

“No friends. Associates at best. My old merc company didn’t really enjoy the whole conversation and camaraderie thing. Fine with me. Lovers? Hardly. Few and far between the person who ends up in my good graces long enough to get that far. Though that  _ is _ precisely why I came to Ferelden.” she admitted. 

 

“Really? What’s your poison. Strong, stubborn types, I’d imagine.” he joked, rare for him. 

 

“I don’t have a type. Come now, I thought you knew me better by now. I go where my safety is assured. Right now, that seems to be with you. Eventually, I do have other plans.” She shrugged. “A wedding, with any luck.”

 

“You have all the luck you could ever ask for. Have yet to see you in a situation you can’t worm your way out of. You could talk a dragon into killing itself so you don’t have to.” Drynne chuckled. 

 

“I don’t know about that. Dragons aren’t driven by the same things as people. They’re not impossible to talk to, just hard to read. Give it a day or two, I’ll have everyone’s motivations figured out.” she said, her expression twisting with her struggle not to laugh. “Really though. They want you to march on over to Orlais and possibly be executed? That’s insane. Take me with you, I can at least dissuade them of that much.” 

 

“It may be best I go on my own. One oddity is enough, two would be pushing it. Besides, I can handle it.” he said. “I’m no slouch when it comes to getting my way either.”

 

Charity sighed, crossing her arms at the refusal, though she lent it some serious thought. “I suppose that’s true. You talked me into coming with after all, and plenty of people are willing to attest that I don’t stick my neck out unless there’s something in it for me. There’s really nothing in this for me, and yet I’m still here.”  she paused, shaking her head. “No, I’m going with. I won’t stand out, you have yet to see what  _ my  _ patron has done for me yet.” 

 

Drynne smirked, nodding. “Well, that’s true. Then why not show me something I don’t know.” 

 

Charity tapped her chin thoughtfully, seemingly reaching some manner of conclusion. With a flourish, she spun, coming to a stop looking identical to Leliana, horns and tail completely gone. She really looked completely identical, there was nothing he could see that would tip him off to her being not the real thing, save that he had seen it happen. 

 

“Ah, now I see.” Drynne hummed. “You chose her because she’s close enough to your height and measurements, right? If you tried...say, Varric, you’d look like a taller version.” 

 

“Did your little friend tell you that?” she huffed. 

 

“Who?” he asked, genuinely looking lost. 

 

Charity stared for a moment before it occurred to her that he didn’t at all remember what happened. Quickly opting to lie rather than clue him in, she pointed to his pack. “Finn, of course.”

 

The cat poked its head out at the mention of his name, but disappeared just as quickly, no doubt to the comfort of his little hideout. 

 

“Finn doesn’t exactly talk to me, you know. I mean he does speak, but I don’t understand him. I seem to be doing fine with guessing this far.” He said. 

 

“Of course. That’s right.” she agreed, glad he hadn’t decided to press the issue further. “So. Val Royeaux, ever been?” 

 

The door opened after a brief knock, Varric walking in. He glanced between the two, waiting until Drynne gestured to a chair. He took a seat, waving them on to continue what they were discussing, no sense in interrupting after all.

 

“Once. Picked up some Orlesian silk for my sister. She asked, and I’m not one to turn down simple requests. I hated it. So tacky.” he sighed. 

 

“Well, it’s a far cry better than most places, at the very least.” She shrugged. “I preferred it to not being able to breathe the air. Poison is a hell of a wake up call.” 

“Good. You can go in my place.” Drynne snorted. 

 

“I could indeed, if you wanted me to.” she laughed. 

 

“I thought you were supposed to stay here?” Varric wondered. 

 

Charity glanced down, rolling her eyes in frustration before she dispelled her magic. “Sorry about that, I forgot.”

 

Varric stared for a moment, but fell back into his usual ease. He’d attested to seeing plenty of weird shit in his travels, and it was reflected in the way he seemed to be only mildly surprised by such a thing. Charity tossed a plain looking ring at Drynne, not even concerned with the dwarf’s presence in the room. Drynne slipped it on without hesitation, seeming to know already what she intended for it. 

 

“Good thinking.” he said. 

 

“You’re just lucky you’re short for an elf or it would never work.” she snorted. 

 

“Short for a siren too. They’re much taller than elves.” he pointed out. 

 

“That reminds me. Never seen one, what are they like?” Varric asked. 

 

“I can’t speak for all of them, I’ve rarely met others. Mostly family. My mom is about seven feet tall, has four wings instead of two, much the same color as mine, I have her hair too. She’s got red-orange eyes like mine too. I’d gather the reason most don’t recall seeing them is because if you see one, you’re usually dead.” he said. “Not a lie, the stories. They sing beautifully, look too pretty for most to resist. They get close, and then they die. The water kind drown you. Her kind tear and rend. My mom is different, of course. After all, married my father and had five kids and he’s still alive and kicking.” 

 

“Almost sorry I asked.” Varric said. “ _ Almost _ .”

 

“What about yours?” Charity asked curiously. 

 

“Dwarves. Have a brother. Boring, all very boring.” Varric said. Clearly it wasn’t something he felt like digging up too much. “Since you asked, what about you?” 

 

She shrugged. “Don’t know who my parents were. I was raised by wolves.” 

 

“You’re joking.” Varric guessed. 

 

“No. No siblings, parents probably long dead. I was taken in by wolves, and raised among them for many years. Only left because this company saw me hunting one day and wouldn’t stop coming around until I left with them. Couldn’t talk their language for a long time, had no manners at all, nothing. Was my old captain who taught me everything I picked up.” she explained. “Avvar, was exiled and decided he wasn’t ready to give up, and made his place in the jungles.” 

 

“Sounds like this is going to be more interesting than I imagined. I thought it was just a weird marked that closed up the rifts and that for some reason, people think the Maker sent you.” he said. “There’s a whole extra layer of weird in this story.” 

 

“You really have no idea just yet. Stick with us, you’ll see how weird it really gets.” Charity laughed. 

 

“If this Breach business takes too long, you might even end up meeting my family. They make a point of visiting a few times a year.” Drynne said with a quiet sigh. “Coming up on their next.” 

 

“Right. That’s what I came in for originally. The Seeker requests you hurry, she wants to set out for Val Royeaux soon.” Varric said. 

 

Charity grinned, standing up. This time with an over the top bow, she turned into an identical version of Drynne himself, who touched the ring and became a clone of her. Charity, the actual one, stood up, gesturing to the door. “We can set off whenever.”

 

She sounded just like him too, it was almost a little eerie, how thoroughly she had managed to change herself in such a short time. He didn’t really understand much about magic, but he gathered the ring was enchanted, a wordless statement that he couldn’t do the same type of magic she could. One seemed less serious and the other seemed to rarely crack a genuine smile. Then again, he supposed they both had their reasons. 

 

“Guessing you’re staying here?” He asked Drynne. 

 

“Yes. I trust she can handle it. I can handle the rest on this end. I want to study the troops, perhaps later I can help out.” Drynne said. “After all, considering the current situation, it could only help to teach them the weaknesses of the very demons they might face.” 

 

“That is actually a good point. I’m sure Cullen would worry less if they were better prepared too.” Varric agreed. “Might actually go to bed for once.” 

 

“Does he not sleep?” Drynne wondered. 

 

“Hardly. He’s usually up before Chuckles, and he’s a pretty early riser for a guy who makes a hobby out of sleeping.” Varric said. 

 

“I see. I’ll do what I can to help.” Drynne said. 

 

“Not passing out on us for days at a time would be a good place to start.” Varric teased. 

 

“It wasn’t intentional.” He said. “And it was only twice, hardly enough to become habit.” 

 

“Well, for now just make sure it doesn’t become three.” Charity said. 

 

She led the way out the door, and he decided to set off too, have a look around with a few less eyes on him for a little while, at least. No, he wasn’t worried about how she’d do in his place, she could handle it, likely better than he could. Orlesians were hard to deal with comfortably, and yet Charity seemed to be able to handle anyone with a smile, yeah, definitely for the best.


	3. Chapter 3

“How do you think it’s going?” Drynne asked curiously. 

 

The sun had already fallen, most of the village asleep save for the guards patrolling. His ring sat on the dresser by his bed, back to his normal self for the most part. His tunic had been discarded, too constrictive and uncomfortable on his wings. Varric poured another drink, tossing a coin on a crate they’d been using as a makeshift table. 

 

“My best guess? I’d bet she’s getting on Cassandra’s nerves, and she hasn’t quite figured out that you’re still here.” Varric said. 

 

Drynne looked over his cards slowly, he wasn’t new to card games, but this particular one was difficult to keep the rules straight. Part of it probably had to do with the strong drinks, his best guess at an attempt to try and decipher his real self buried under a layer of junk, but just this once, he’d been fairly open about everything. He kept to himself normally, save for his former crew, but waking up suspected of murder with talk of execution and a weird magical mark had a way of making you more open than you like, if only to prove you’re not really the suspicious one after all. 

 

“Cassandra, is she always like that...I mean so…” he trailed off, unwilling to finish the sentiment. 

 

“Uptight? Humorless? Probably. At least I’ve never seen her react pleasantly to anything since I met her.” Varric said. 

 

“Sounds like she needs a distraction.” Drynne suggested, taking a drink. 

 

“You should offer.” Varric laughed.

 

His hand immediately came up over his mouth to avoid spitting. “Oh, my new friend, I’m afraid she has not a chance in the void. Nothing personal, I’m just not interested in women.” 

 

“Guess that means you and Charity aren’t as close as rumor says.” he observed.

 

“When you say ‘rumor says’ why do I feel like you were the one who spread those rumors?” Drynne asked warily. 

 

“Some, not all.” He admitted with a shrug.  “If you’d just tell me these things, I could be a little more accurate?” 

 

“I have no idea what you plan to tell people.” he said. “Besides, you know mostly everything. Raised in a large family, middle of five kids, I’m a demon hunter, and my entire crew took off with my ship. Now you know I’m interested in men, and you know Finn, so I’m not sure what’s left to cover.” 

 

If not for the slight chuckle he followed up with, it might have been normal to assume that he was just that uncomfortable, but it could have been more likely he simply didn’t know what else to say. Maybe he thought he was a common enough sight in Thedas that he was completely ordinary, average in every way. Being fair, for about the first five minutes they knew each other, he hadn’t spoken once, he legitimately thought he _was_ a woman. There was no way to mistake Charity for a man, even completely blind, but Drynne was a different case. He could only guess at the way his parents looked based on vague descriptions, he knew plenty of elves, and yeah, he could see it in his eye, especially, in his slim build, and by the fact he had not even a trace of stubble. Elves didn’t grow beards, at least from what he’d been told. Sirens? Entirely new to him, to everyone probably. The wings said plenty, the markings on his face and skin were somewhat similar to those of the Dalish, but not quite identical, a tribal feature that served similar functions to elves, but not exact, different patterns, different meanings. 

 

Drynne had piercings, not a common sight at least this far south, but those were superficial. No, Varric realized early on that figuring out anything about him was likely to involve learning more about something else first. He was curious about his weapon too, but if they were anything like each other at all, that was a topic best not asked about. Not simply because it was personal, maybe it wasn’t even dangerous, but a weapon like that wasn’t something you saw every day, and logic said it wasn’t something you just stumble upon in a dark abandoned cave, but the sort of thing that someone put time and effort into making. It was a gift, he was sure of that much, but from who, or why? He couldn’t begin to guess. 

 

Drynne set some cards down, drawing a few more, his features unreadable. Finally, he hummed a neutral sounding ‘hm.’ then leaned back in his seat. Varric drew a card, tossing a few coins nonchalantly to the pile, refilling both cups before he glanced down. Finn had somehow snuck up on him, batting the laces of his boots playfully, though he stopped, arching into his hand when he absently reached to scratch his chin. 

 

“Seems to like you. That’s a good sign. He’s a better judge of people than I am…” he observed.

 

“Well, I’m not exactly going to stab you in your sleep. Too dramatic, besides, this is more interesting.” Varric told him. 

 

Laying his hand downward, he reached up, flipping a crest of feathers at the side of his head over, scratching the ridge of his ear, elven in appearance, at least. That wasn’t the detail he had noticed most. 

 

“That  _ moves? _ ” Varric asked, surprised. 

 

“Huh? Oh...yeah.” He mumbled. 

 

He raised the feathers on the left side of his head, before letting them fall back into place. “It’s not a common feature, I think. My mother has longer feathers, my little brother has them too, and my older sister, but my older brother and younger sister don’t have any. Even among my distant relatives, it seems pretty uncommon, but I’d guess it’s less common in our family, being half elf.” 

 

“But the wings aren’t just for show?” Varric questioned. 

 

“Not at all. I can fly pretty well. As I’ve mentioned before, my mother has four wings, so she’s more adept at it, but I like to believe I’m not too bad.” Drynne said with a shrug. “I can lift a fair bit too, if you’re _that_ curious, perhaps you’d like me to show you?” 

 

Varric immediately shook his head, waving his hands in emphasis. “Not that I’m not flattered you’d ask, but dwarves belong on the ground, I’m not just any dwarf of course, but I’m sadly no exception.” 

 

“Suit yourself.” Drynne shrugged. “Hey...as long as we’re asking questions...the Breach, what does it feel like to you?” 

 

Glancing up from his drink, his eyes narrowed like he was thinking over his answer. He was quiet for a time before he finally seemed like he’d reached a conclusion. 

 

“Feels bad, obviously. I don’t know how to put it to words except to say it creeps me out.” he told him. “Why, is it different for you?” 

 

“It’s exhausting.” Drynne admitted. “I have a gift for sensing dark presences, part of the job. I can feel so many things...I can feel the presence of demons, of all that energy, and it feels like it’s pressing directly on me, but not in a physical sense, more...I suppose...mentally? Spiritually perhaps?” 

 

“No offense, but I’d like to keep my perception of it. You’re better equipped to handle all that weirdness than I am.” Varric said. 

 

“I think I’ll stay.” Drynne said offhandedly.

 

“Were you thinking of leaving?” Varric wondered.

 

“There’d be no point in running. I’d just die.” he said. “I did not mean to imply I meant to abandon this task, I meant only that I think I’ve decided that  _ I _ personally want it dealt with. My body is...special, in a sense, and I won’t be able to get any peace until it’s closed. There’s only going to be worse things coming the longer it’s open.” 

 

“We can agree on that.” Varric nodded. Holding up his cup, he drained the rest of it, topping off the cups one last time, setting the empty bottle to the side. “To closing the Breach, if it’s even possible.” 

 

“To _making_ _it possible_.” Drynne added dryly. “On a different note, seriously, how long does a trip to Val Royeaux take? I figured she’d be back soon.” 

 

“Couple of days one way. You won’t be seeing them for a few more days.” Varric told him.

 

“Well, that’s interesting. I have options. Either I reveal that I didn’t actually go just so I can try to get something done, or...I keep it up, pretend to be Charity until she returns. I’m not sure which is more likely to help.” he admitted. 

 

“Personally? Why not keep it up. Funny, if nothing else.” Varric suggested.

 

“I’ll think it over.” he said, muffling a yawn. 

 

“You can’t be tired already.” Varric said.

 

“I am. It’s difficult to stay awake late at night, and somewhat unusual. My father’s clan basically lives at night, and a good majority of sirens are diurnal, so while he did the impossible and managed to switch his schedule to make it work, I haven’t yet mastered that…” he explained, fighting back another yawn. 

 

“You want to call it here?” he offered. 

 

“I can finish this hand at least.” he said. “You’re welcome to stay if you like. It’s not like I have anything you’d want, and so far I don’t think I’ve made you want me dead.” 

 

Varric scratched his chin in thought, glancing at his cards, what he had already forgotten in the midst of conversation. “I was going to say no, but whatever happens will probably require an early start, maybe it’s not a bad idea.” 

 

“Sounded alright to me, at least. Not sure if that counts for much anymore.” he said with a sigh. “I think it’s your turn, right?” 

 

“I’ve lost track, actually. Let’s just call it here, before you fall asleep like that.” Varric said. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So both of my characters are a little bit different. Charity is pretty much adherent to the guides, except that her Great Old One is actually Imhar the Trickster (Avvar), and Drynne is mostly homebrew, he's technically half moon elf and half siren, except instead of a water siren, he's a bird variant, so basically a winged elf. His official class is Demon Hunter, and his power is from a demon instead of an angel (in this, basically a good spirit). 
> 
> Some other notes, Drynne likes men, and Charity mostly likes pranks, but has high aspirations. Stat wise, they both have max Charisma and bonuses to deception and persuasion. Also, I changed the name, but Drynne actually does have a cat with a suit of +1 studded leather armor. in the campaign for him, Pounce-A-Lot (Can you tell I really like Dragon Age? Charity's crossbow is named Bianca, but it's not going to be in here, mostly because she never even uses it anyway. u.u)


End file.
